Sick
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: Three years after the Dark Lord is defeated in 1981, something happens to Severus Snape. Albus Dumbledore is left to deal with the consequences-and a man who was left with the Dark Lord for five long years... ABANDONED
1. Chapter 1

**Sick**

_A taster. This will be a dark story._

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<strong>

Albus Dumbledore was just about to settle down to a pot of tea and his new knitting magazine, tired from a week of meetings at the Ministry and other such delights, when the door nearly buckled under the force of a knock that was both urgent and terrified. He stood and opened the door with wandless magic-and in the doorway was his newly elected Headboy, Toby Stephens. "Toby?" He asked, wondering why the brilliant yet modest Ravenclaw student had come to him, instead of going straight to his Head-of-House. "Headmaster. I-I didn't know who else to go to..."

"Slow down, Toby. What is the problem here?" He always referred to his Headboy by his first name; it was the only way to bridge the gap between teachers and students in a way that was vaguely appropriate...and he was concerned by the fear he could see, evident in his student's hazel eyes.

"Some of the younger students came to find me. It's Professor Snape, Professor...I think...maybe you should come see yourself..."

And now Albus understood. Toby, naturally gifted at most subjects, had a particular affinity with Potions. He had impressed the new yet terribly strict Potions Master, who had just started his third year of teaching. It was rare for Severus to compliment and speak well of a student, especially to other teachers in the staffroom. As a result, the relationship between Professor Snape and Toby Stephens was particularly harmonious...at least, as harmonious as they could be. "Where?"

"His office, sir. I don't know what happened..."

* * *

><p>Albus did not say another word as he and his Headboy swept down toward the dungeons, using one of the secret passages that only the most knowledgable and the most fortunate Hogwarts' residents knew of, cutting the journey time at least in half. Albus stopped outside the door that led to Severus' office; almost instantly, he could feel that there was something wrong. The wards on the door were present, but considerably weaker than usual. "What did the younger students see?"<p>

"They didn't. He didn't show up to their detention." Toby glanced toward the Potions classroom, "I believe that they are still there, Professor..."

"Go and see to them. I'll see what has kept Severus." Something, deep inside Albus' chest, told him he did not want Toby to see whatever lay beyond the door. Albus wasn't sure he wanted to, either. He waited until Toby was definitely out of sight before turning the door handle and opening the door.

He stepped into what had used to be Severus' tidy office. His foot brushed against parchment-which had clearly become a new carpet. Books lay strewn across the room, their innards ripped from them with no due care or attention. Every single vial that Albus could see was smashed, across the table, across the window sill. The chair that Severus had kept from his predecessor was ripped-and Albus recognised the handiwork of Severus' own curse, Sectumsempra. The fire was bright and hot and too high to be completely safe. Albus swallowed. What had caused such devastation?

The adjoining bedroom was no matter-it was though a terrible storm had ripped through every inch. The curtains were scorched, the bed hardly resembled a bed any more, and Albus could hardly seen anything that was still intact or untouched. This was destruction at its worst; and unless it was accidental magic, Albus could see no other reasoning for it.

"Severus?" He called gently. So far, he had seen no signs of life. He was beginning to become extremely worried about what state of mind his newest teacher was in. Severus was, by all accounts, an incredibly neat and tidy person, conscious of even the slightest mess-and yet. Here was the result of...Albus couldn't even begin to imagine.

He turned on his heel when he heard no reply. He pushed open the bathroom door, hearing a tap dripping amidst the strange, almost unearthly silence and wondering if Severus was also trying to flood a room as well.

But he was wrong. It wasn't water.

Albus suddenly found himself unable to move. He stared across at the collapsed figure of his Potions Master, slumped against the wall, one arm resting against the side of the bath. In one hand was a bloodied knife. The opposite wrist was dripping blood at an alarmingly fast rate. Albus looked at Severus' face, deathly white, eyes closed, all life seemingly diminished.

It was the footsteps behind him that alerted him back to reality. "Toby. Go and fetch Madame Pomfrey. Immediately." When Toby did not respond, he turned. "Now." His eyes and his tone bode no argument, and Toby half sprinted from the room. Albus carefully walked across the slippery floor, trying to ignore the amount of blood. He knelt next to Severus, using his hand to staunch the blood flow and touching his other fingers to Severus' neck. "Child." He murmured, feeling something painful crack in his chest. "What happened?"

But Severus didn't answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sick**

_Thank you for the wonderful reaction to the first chapter; it surprised me! I have worked on this little addition, but the next few chapters will be slightly delayed as I want to finish "Dumbledore's Betrayal" and "Guardian Angel" first as both as shorter. I thank you in advance for your patience!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two:<strong>

"We're lucky that you found him, Albus. The Blood-Replenishment potion is working." Poppy Pomfrey brushed her brown hair back from her eyes, tucking it under her hat, shaking her head as she regarded the prostrate figure of Severus lying on the bed before her. She sighed, "Any more time and we would have lost him."

Albus was sat beside the bed, looking and feeling every single one of his years. He was still slightly shocked—having one of his own attempt to commit suicide under his admittedly scrutinising gaze was difficult to comprehend. Especially Severus. "I wonder what brought this on…he had been doing so well here with us…"

Poppy glanced at him, "There have been no signs?"

"No. He seemed to be rather positive recently. Settling in. Settling down. He was talking to people in the staffroom. He is even striking up a friendship with Minerva…who I ought to inform. She will need to tell the students."

"What about his Slytherins? He will need time to recover, Albus, he will be incredibly weak, after such an event. I want to keep him here for at least three days. There must be some other cause of this—and if he is psychologically unstable, he should not be in a classroom." Poppy pressed the back of her hand to Severus' forehead, "He is hot. I wonder if he has a fever."

"I will inform his Slytherins that he has caught the illness that is sweeping through Hogwarts." Poppy had recently been inundated with cases, students and teachers alike, pleading symptoms such as sore throats, dizziness, nausea and exhaustion. It was a common winter virus that Albus knew appeared every single year—and it was just a case of handing out potions and dispensing some sympathy. No one could know the true reason why Severus was in the Hospital Wing.

Poppy smiled, just slightly. "I was just remembering Severus when he was a boy. He used to catch that winter illness every single year. He would come here only when he was sent…and he hated my fussing. Such a peculiar child, do you not think?" Poppy raised her head, "Always covered in bruises and scratches, even when he was not having run-ins with those Marauders."

Albus met her gaze, "I know about your theories, Poppy. Both Severus' parents are dead. I do not think we should pursue the matter. When do you expect him to awaken?"

"Soon. He's been out for nearly six hours. When he wakes, I will make sure he eats something small and solid—poor boy looks like he has not seen food for a week."

They both looked up when there was a knock at the Hospital Wing door. Albus got up and crossed to the door while Poppy pulled the curtains around the bed, not willing for Severus' dignity to be slighted.

"Minerva." Albus smiled slightly at his Deputy, who looked concerned. "A portrait told me what happened in the Slytherin corridor. Is he all right?" The slightly blunt words were a cover for anxiety, and Albus was relieved that someone else was as worried as he. "He is still unconscious. He lost a lot of blood."

Minerva pulled the door behind her as Albus led her to Severus, "I thought he was beginning to enjoy his time here too, Albus." She sat down in the chair Albus had vacated, eyes falling on the white bandage around the recently healed wound on Severus' wrist.

Albus rested his hands on her shoulders, "We'll make him better, Minerva. We will find out what happened and we will make it right."

She nodded slowly, her eyes burning. "He's only twenty two…"

Albus tightened his hands, "I know."

Minerva swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced up at Poppy, who was staring at Severus, a frown appearing upon her lined forehead. "He's waking up."

True to her word, Severus stirred slightly, eyes flickering open and looking up at the arched ceiling. It took him a few moments to focus, after which he glanced around. His eyes were tired and reddened and shadowed. He blinked and his brow creased as he started to understand what was happening. His gaze settled on Poppy. "…You caught me."

"We stopped you." Poppy corrected, leaning close and looking into his eyes. "You are very lucky to be still alive, Severus."

"…Considering I attempted…to kill myself…we have a different…" He coughed to clear his dry throat, "…Concept of luck, Poppy."

Poppy Summoned a glass of water and rested it on the table next to him. "Do not be silly. Why would you possibly wish to kill yourself, Severus?"

Severus turned his head away and looked instead at Minerva. "Hello, Minerva."

Minerva saw the way his face brightened slightly when he recognised her, and she smiled. "Good morning, Severus. How do you feel?"

Severus didn't answer that either. He simply observed her and Albus, before offering—"You two look…like concerned parents…" He raised his good hand. "…Like that." His hand dropped back to the blanket. "I hate my parents."

Poppy glanced across at Albus. He took the hint and they both stepped out of the curtain, leaving Minerva to help Severus take a sip of the water. "He's rambling, Albus." Poppy murmured. "He will need some time to get back to his right mind."

Albus was preoccupied. "Did you hear what he said? He said that he was unlucky because we had saved him. He really did plan to kill himself, Poppy. But why?" Albus seemed most bewildered by this small fact. "Voldemort has been gone for three years—he is under no threat here—and yet…"

Poppy put one hand on his arm, "Albus. Things like this can be triggered by the smallest thing—we have no idea what happened to him before he returned to us. It could be that something has reminded of him of his time with You-Know-Who, and that is why he has tried this. We can make no diagnoses until he has fully recovered consciousness and we can ask him ourselves."

Albus nodded, "Thank you for your wisdom, as always, Poppy. I just thought we were starting to make a breakthrough."

"Albus. I know how important he is to you. We'll fix him. I promise. Come."

They stepped back into the small curtained cubicle to find Minerva sat closer to Severus, holding his hand, talking to him. Severus was listening intently to whatever it was Minerva was speaking about—and Albus had to smile at the tender scene before him. Despite her fiery personality, the often formidable Gryffindor Head of House had a good heart and a true maternal instinct—and was often particularly protective of those who were neglected or lonely. She had always had a soft spot for the difficult and silent Slytherin who had first entered their lives ten years before. Somehow he had charmed her.

"We are pleased to see that you are awake, Severus, dear boy." Albus said, addressing Severus for the first time. "You gave us quite a scare. I trust that you will let us know the next time you are planning something so dramatic?"

Severus had gone very quiet, staring at Albus, suddenly incredibly white. Minerva looked at him, and then down at her hand. "Severus?"

Severus managed to gasp two words, even though his throat suddenly sounded constricted and his breathing rate had increased considerably. "I'm sorry…"

Albus had noticed the slightly odd behaviour, "No need to be apologetic, child, I assume something happened that sparked such a thing. In time, you can tell us." He put one hand on Severus' arm, hoping to sooth the much younger man.

It had the opposite effect. Severus flinched away, suddenly uncomfortable. "…I want to go to sleep.." He said, and Poppy decided to step in. "Albus, Minerva. We should leave our patient to rest—he has had enough 'excitement' for one day." She raised her eyebrows pointedly at Albus, who nodded and withdrew. "Sleep well, Severus."

Minerva came away more reluctantly. She was massaging her fingers with her other hand, casting a concerned glance back toward the bed as Poppy put the curtains around and stood with Albus and Minerva.

"Minerva? Your hand?" Albus pointed.

"It was Severus. He was holding on to me so tightly." She frowned. "He was terrified. Of you." Her eyes latched onto Albus, and Albus felt as though the gaze was almost accusing.

"We do not know that for certain. It could have been any stimulus. However." Poppy folded her arms, "I think it would be prudent to put Severus through a full medical examination."

Albus shook his head, "He requested not to have one when he joined Hogwarts. It is his choice." He folded his arms into his cloak, "He personally asked it of me."

"Albus!" Poppy sounded slightly irritated, "You did this when he was a small boy too! We need to find out what has happened in Severus' past, otherwise we will never understand why he tried to kill himself tonight! If he had not supposed to have been hosting a detention tonight, he would have also succeeded! This is no longer a case of your word, Albus, I'm sorry! This is Severus' wellbeing that we are talking about!" Although they were talking in near whispers, the anger and determination was evident in Poppy's voice. "What are you so frightened of discovering?"

Albus turned away.

"Do not turn your back on me, Albus Dumbledore!" Poppy stepped in front of him, knowing that she also had the support of Minerva. "Tell me why you will not allow this to happen."

When Albus finally looked at her, she was shocked to see his eyes glistening with tears. "He went to Tom because of me, Poppy. Do you really think I want to know what I sent him to? I do not think I can bear that guilt." He shook his head, "I know there is something wrong with him. I know that any number of terrible things could have befallen him—and most likely did. But I look at him and I see the child I failed. The physical evidence would destroy me."

Poppy's eyes softened slightly. "But Albus. This is not a question of your guilt. We can only help Severus if we try to find out what happened and help him cope with it. Surely he deserves that?"

Albus nodded slowly. "Of course. Forgive me. I may retire, if it is all the same to you, Poppy."

"Of course. I'll bid you both good night."

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><p>Behind the curtains, Severus had turned onto his side and was listening to the conversation intently. They wanted him to submit to a full medical examination? He would do no such thing! They would find out…he wrapped his arms tighter around himself and wished he had not been found. It had been so close…he had nearly drifted…he had been warm and happy and secure…he swallowed. He would need to find a way out from the medical examination. That was what he would focus on. There would be another time. Another place. And then he could find a way to make sure he was not stopped.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Sick**

**UPDATE: **_Dear no-name; thank you for your review, referencing the fact that Severus is still wearing his robes. I suppose it's my poetic licence, and it worked much better with this chapter. I don't pretend to be an expert in nursing (it's never something I have done) so I apologise for the slight inaccuracies. I would be pleased to discuss this with you via PM if I can be of any more help! :) SS19._

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><p><strong>Chapter Three:<strong>

Albus Dumbledore swept into the Hospital Wing the next morning, later than expected because he had been waylaid by Ministry officials and their persistent owl post. Once again, he was being asked if he would accept the position as Minister for Magic—which he was denying, also once again. He would much rather be with at Hogwarts with his students rather than caught up in all the bureaucracy of the Ministry. Right now, of course, he had more pressing issues on his mind, too. He smiled in greeting at Poppy as she came to see him. "He's still asleep."

Albus nodded, "May I see him?"

Poppy hesitated. "Albus, with all due respect…I am still slightly concerned with how he reacted to your presence last night. It could be that he is linking you to some uncomfortable memories—and I do not want to risk a relapse."

Albus tried not to seem hurt by these words. "Of course, Poppy. I understand. Perhaps Minerva would be better equipped to help you. Will you at least let me know if he submits to the medical examination? What can you do if he does not?"

Poppy fidgeted with her hands, "Technically, he has no choice in the matter—I can say that due to his confirmed suicide attempt, he is mentally unstable and thus must be fully examined." She looked slightly disgruntled, "It is against my vows of respecting a patient's wishes, which are of course important—but—at the same time, if we can find out what happened…"

Albus nodded, "With any luck, he will cause you no problems. I do have one question. The destruction in his quarters. Do you believe…"

"It was accidental magic? Absolutely. Otherwise, his hands would be sliced by the glass." Poppy picked up the end of the sentence.

Albus looked concerned by this, "Accidental magic can only occur of that magnitude when someone is incredibly angry or upset. Yet I have found no reason for such a performance. You have to find out what was the catalyst here, Poppy. I am having no luck, and you are right—Severus seems reluctant to open up to me."

"I shall do my best, as always, Albus." Poppy patted his arm. "I shall attempt to convince our young friend to assist me in whatever way he can. I am sure he does want the help—he just doesn't know how to ask for it."

"Very well. I shall speak to Minerva and see if she has some time to help you—Severus seems to trust her. Good luck, Poppy, I have a terrible feeling you will need it."

She smiled and stepped back into the private room off to the side of the ward. Albus disappeared.

* * *

><p>"Severus?" Poppy leaned close and gently touched the unconscious Severus' cheek, hoping to stir him carefully from his sleep. "It's half past eleven, Severus, and I could do with some company."<p>

Severus moaned and turned his head slightly, waking slowly. He muttered something under his breath and rolled over, prompting Poppy to smile. "Never an early morning person, were you, Severus dear?"

There was a soft tap at the door and Minerva peered around the frame, "Albus sent me?"

"I'm glad you are here." Poppy crossed to Minerva as Severus continued to doze in a half awake state. "I need to give him a full examination—but I doubt he will be willing. He has never been particularly easy to examine."

Minerva nodded, remembering how difficult Severus had been to reach when he had been a child. "Can you give a reason for that, Poppy?"

"I have my reasons." Poppy's voice hardened. "Unfortunately, the Headmaster is not party to them."

"Yours are the same as mine then. He will not listen to me either. You know what he thinks about family, and how he can see no wrong in parents and relatives." Minerva shook her head, "I hope for all our sakes that our hypotheses are not true. Does he need to eat something first? He still looks incredibly weak…"

"I dislike being talked about as if I am not here." Severus said in response. "I am not hungry, and I am not submitting to a full medical examination, as there is nothing wrong with me." He sat up, subjecting them both to a cool glare. "I also intend to return to my classes."

Poppy folded her arms, "Not for at least another day. You lost a lot of blood, Severus, and that means you will be weak—the Blood Replenishment potion, as you well know, does not relieve the physical consequences of blood loss. I highly doubt you will be able to leave this room, let alone teach a class." Her tone was firm and bode no argument. "Now. Your medical examination is important…"

"Poppy. I do not wish to be examined, please. Thank you." Severus' use of manners was a sign that he was very unhappy with the idea. This was the beginning of a rebellion that Poppy was unwilling to continue with.

"Severus." She softened her tone just slightly, "I know that you are uncomfortable—but—"

"You cannot force me." Severus replied, tone biting. Neither Poppy or Minerva had not noticed the tensing of his muscles—like a caged animal wanting to escape. When backed into a corner, this Slytherin serpent could be incredibly dangerous—they had seen it before.

"Yes, I can. I do not wish to involve St Mungo's and their Healers, Severus, but you did try to kill yourself—and that means you are deemed mentally insecure." She took a step forward, "It is my responsibility to make sure that there are no underlying causes…"

"There is nothing wrong with me!" Severus shouted.

"Then why did you try to kill yourself?" Minerva interrupted, hands on her hips, and looking every part the fiery Gryffindor patron her reputation suggested.

Severus, for his part, did look slightly cowed. He lowered his voice to a more respectful tone, "My reasons are my own." His eyes pleaded with her not to press the subject.

Minerva looked away, and Poppy continued to stare at her patient.

Severus exhaled slowly. "Do I have _any_ choice?"

"Not really." Poppy answered gently. "I'm sorry to place you in this position, Severus, we both know that you don't want to do this. But we do not have any choice either."

"Fine. I surrender."

Severus' choice of words made Minerva and Poppy glance at each other, but they chose not to pursue this and instead focused on the present. Severus took to investigating the bandage on his wrist as Poppy prepared her notes and picked up her wand. "You need to take your clothes off, Severus, dear."

Minerva stood, "I'll be just outside…"

"No. Stay." Severus interjected. "That is my condition. Minerva stays."

This struck Poppy as slightly strange—but she nodded, "As long as Minerva is fine with that…"

Minerva was staring at the younger man, surprised by the fact he seemed so desperate for her to stay. Severus and she had a complicated relationship—she had come to know him well over his time at Hogwarts as a student, and yes, he certainly was one of the most talented young wizards she had seen for many generations. But she had never been able to get him to open up—and there had been plenty of opportunities, considering she had found him in front of her many times due to his dealings with the Marauders—first of all when they were at fault, but by their seventh year, when Severus became the main antagonist. In the end, she had given up, and Severus had been sent straight to Albus when he had misbehaved. There was one incident that stuck out in her mind—Severus attacking a third year Gryffindor—she had never seen such violence in a student…she brought herself back to the present with an uncomfortable start, and realised she had been quiet for a long moment. "Of course."

Severus was watching her closely. "Thank you, Minerva." He lowered his eyes and continue to fiddle with his bandage.

"Severus. Your clothes, if you will." Poppy prompted.

Severus looked at her. "No."

"Do not make this difficult, Severus, dear. How am I supposed to examine you if I have to contend with your robes too? Have a little common sense." She was trying not to sound impatient—but still, did Severus really have to build obstacles at every turn?

Severus seemed to consider this for a moment. He swallowed and raised his head. "Can I…" His voice was rough and it didn't have any volume or strength. Minerva crossed to him. "What is it?"

He murmured something into her ear, which she paused for a moment before answering, "I'm sure that will be fine." She drew away, face contorted into a frown. Poppy shot her a quizzical look as Severus started to undo the buttons of his robes. Minerva took her arm. "He wants to keep his underwear on."

Poppy paled, "Why would he ask that?"

Minerva shook her head, "I don't know."

"Before you start thinking that I suffered something tragic in my childhood, maybe it is because I have slight confidence issues?" Severus said suddenly, pulling his shirt off and depositing it into a heap on the floor. He raised one eyebrow, standing up. "Ever since my fifth year, perhaps?"

Minerva turned away, but Poppy would not let her eyes drop from Severus', suspecting him of trying to evade the subject. Severus met her eyes obstinately, and she could not glean anything from that dark gaze. "That's fine—it is not a requirement, to strip completely. I just want to be able to pick up some of your vitals and have a look at you properly."

Severus got slowly to his feet, leaning heavily on the chair beside his bed as he did so. Still he hesitated, before undoing his belt and pulling his trousers down, the smallest of flushes reddening his neck. He raised his head when Poppy touched his arm and helped him to stand straight. "Not so bad, was it?" She said softly, brushing his hair back from his face and looking into his eyes. "Stand straight, and don't move. I'll make this as quick as I can."

Severus obeyed her instructions, looking straight ahead at the wall opposite. The blush still tainted his cheeks and he had wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the bandage. He was clearly uncomfortable, and Minerva wished there was some way she could sooth him.

Poppy pointed the wand between Severus' eyes, "Look at me."

The black irises fluttered to hers, "What does everyone think happened to me?"

"They think you have fallen foul of the terrible winter bug that grips most of Hogwarts every year." Minerva supplied, "I think most of the students believe you are holed up in your office with a packet of Self-Cleaning tissues and a good book…"

Severus' head jerked up. "My office."

"Yes, I meant to ask you about that, Severus. Accidental magic?" Poppy continued the conversation while scribbling something on her parchment.

"Yes. I didn't mean to…"

Poppy raised her head, "Angry or upset?"

"Mixture of both." Severus mumbled.

"I thought so." Poppy replied. "Open your mouth for me." She quickly checked Severus' teeth and gums, ignoring the glare that she sustained from her patient. "You truly are the menace of the Hospital Wing, Severus."

"I hate hospitals." Severus answered abruptly. "I hate the smell of them. Disinfectant."

Poppy noted that mentally and carried on. "You really do need to eat more."

"I really do not need a running commentary, Poppy. Being a Death-Eater has ways of disrupting the appetite. I eat enough."

Poppy drifted into silence, making notes as she went. She lingered when she looked at the faintly outline of the tattoo on Severus' left arm. "Can I just…" She reached out, as if to touch it—and Severus wrenched his arm away. "No. You cannot."

Poppy nodded to herself and finished looking him over. "Just a few tests, and then I will be done. I told you it would be quick." She touched her cold hand to his chest, relieved when he flinched slightly. "Sorry." She tried to make it into a joke, but clearly Severus was in no mood to be lighthearted. Finally she stepped back and looked at him from a distance. There was crease between her eyebrows. "Thank you, Severus. I'm finished." She picked up the parchment and smiled at him warmly. "I just want to go and put this away. You can put your clothes back on, we'll get the House-Elves to bring you something to eat, and then you can rest today. If you do as you are told, I may let you return to class tomorrow." She disappeared out of the door rather abruptly.

Minerva watched her leave, but stayed where she was seated, watching Severus. He pulled his trousers back on and sat down on the side of the bed, not yet picking his shirt up. Minerva got up and moved so she was next to him. "Are you all right?"

Severus nodded distractedly, "Of course. Thank you for staying."

"You are welcome. I was surprised you asked." Minerva said gently.

"Yes, well. I trust you. I knew that if you were there…nothing ill would befall me." Severus twisted his bandage, seemingly nervous.

"Nothing ill would befall you when Poppy is here either. We're here to help you, Severus, all of us. Even Albus." Minerva tested the ground. Severus looked at her when she mentioned the Headmaster's name, and his gaze was almost sceptical. "Indeed. It is sometimes difficult to convince myself of that."

"Why?"

Severus seemed about to say something more, when clearly he though better of it. Instead, he went with, "I think I'd quite like vegetable soup for lunch. If it will satisfy Poppy."

Minerva knew that whatever subject she had just broached was now closed and no longer up for discussion. She nodded, "I shall get a House Elf to bring some up for you." She patted his arm, "Well done. We'll make sure you get better, Severus."

"Thank you." Severus answered.

She stood and closed the door gently behind her. Poppy was sat in an armchair opposite, sheet white and still looking incredibly worried. Minerva crossed to her, "What is it?"

Poppy looked at her, and her eyes were anxious. "We need to see the Headmaster. There is something very wrong here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Sick**

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><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>

"What were the results of the examination?" Albus asked, resting his chin on top of the steeple he had created with his fingers.

"Nothing." Poppy said, slamming the parchment down onto the table in front of him. "Apparently, there is nothing wrong with him."

"Well, that's good, surely?" Albus replied, "I must say, I am slightly perplexed as to—"

"Albus! There is _nothing_ wrong with him. He has no bruises, no cuts, no scars, no signs of any of the damage we knew was there when he came to us as a child. The only thing my examination identified was his lack of weight." Poppy paced up and down anxiously. "Except, there is so much evidence that points to the fact he is not right. When I asked him if he would take his clothes off for the examination, he instantly assumed I meant _all_ his clothes. Why would anyone of Severus' age think that? He put up so much resistance to the examination—why, when he knew that I would find nothing?" She pursed her lips and stopped pacing, "And of course, there is the small matter of his suicide attempt."

Albus frowned. "Do you think someone has healed him?"

"No. I think someone has covered up the damage that they have done to him. He should have scars from past wounds that would not heal. I truly believe that we are dealing with something deeper, here."

"How deep, Poppy?"

"I dread to think, Albus." Poppy shook her head, and Albus was concerned at the fear he saw in her eyes. "It could be anything. He mentioned disinfectant, he's clearly unstable—I need your permission to conduct further examinations."

Albus sat back in his chair, "You believe it that strongly?"

Poppy faced him. "I am. Severus is fighting inner demons that threaten to destroy him. If we do not find out what they are, we risk him breaking down further."

"What do you have in mind, Poppy, dear?" Albus pressed, "He will not go to St. Mungo's, you know that."

"I think he see someone who is trained in abusive pasts—whether it be from his time as a Death-Eater or before then." Poppy answered. "I know you do not want to consider the fact that his family may have been responsible—but it is something we can no longer ignore."

"I shall find someone who can help. Until then, he can stay in the Hospital Wing—tell him that it is my request, as I do not want him in the classroom, in case he suffers another relapse. Make sure he cannot repeat his attempt to kill himself." Albus stood. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Poppy. I will do everything in my power to make sure we get to the bottom of this." That was his dismissal of her—and when she had left, he turned his gaze to Minerva. "You agree, I assume?"

"He has always been a little peculiar, Albus, you know that—but this is almost a whole new level. I think Poppy and I are both reacting to the _feeling_ that there is something not right. If we are wrong, we can pretend we are being overprotective. But if we turned out to be correct, and we did nothing about it—" She trailed off, leaving her thoughts unspoken.

"Very well, Minerva. I will get in contact with an old friend of mine—he may be able to help Severus. I ask you to stay close to Severus, as he is unwilling to speak to me—he may need someone he believes he can trust."

"He _can_ trust me, and he knows that." Minerva stood from her chair and looked at Albus, "Do you know why he does not trust you, Albus? He does not have any reason—"

"I imagine it is due to my mistake of trusting James and Sirius over him when he was a child." Albus cut her off, somewhat abruptly. "In time, he will understand, I should think. Thank you, Minerva."

She nodded, smiled, and left him alone. Albus lowered himself back into his armchair and stared into the fire, preoccupied with the past, mind focused on one memory, one he had hoped never to have to experience again.

It was one he had considered placing in the Penseive so it would never haunt his darkest nightmares—but he worried about someone finding it by accident, and seeing just what he had done.

What he had done to one seventeen year old Severus Snape.

He had not meant it, and he truly meant that—he had simply lost control.

Staring at the boy with the cold and heartless eyes, robes stained with the blood of that third year student—he had become so angry, because he knew what he was seeing. He had never, ever, raised a hand to a student before—

He blinked and fidgeted with his beard. Severus had been so young, and yet already an adult, corrupted almost to the point of no return. Albus had pushed him over that line, treated him like dirt, shouted and had implied and had physically shattered the younger man who had stood before him. The way he had touched Severus had terrified the other—he had seen it in his eyes.

He had lost control—and the thought of that tortured him, every time he allowed himself to remember.

It had been that, that stupid second when he had seen only Tom Riddle and all his mistakes with that student, that had pushed Severus into the arms of said Voldemort and away from any real hope of return.

Whatever abuse Severus had suffered at the hands of Lord Voldemort and his Death-Eaters, and he knew it had happened, because he too could feel it whenever he was in the boy's presence, Albus knew there was one terrible truth.

He was the one responsible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sick**

**_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far; the next few chapters of this story will be set in the past. And, based on what we know so far...I worry about that past, don't yo_**_u?_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong>

Severus was dreaming, head resting against the pillow behind him, eyes closed and face slackened by sleep. He had been peacefully ensconced in sleep's embrace for a couple of hours now, and Poppy was pleased to see that he was recovering and healing. Minerva was still sat in the chair next to his bed, as she had been when he had drifted off after eating some soup and talking quietly with her about something related to potions. He had simply fallen asleep halfway through a sentence, and Poppy had pointed out that his body was exhausted.

Minerva looked across at the matron, "I still cannot believe that, two days ago, he was attempting to kill himself. He seems so…calm now."

"It is perfectly normal, for a person to be like this after trying to commit suicide. I can imagine Severus had worked himself up into quite a state, Minerva, and now he is not in that state. Nevertheless, it does not make the situation any less serious. In fact, it may make it more so, because he will not tell us what the problem was."

"I want to know what prompted such a thing, Poppy. Why would he want to take his own life?" Minerva seemed genuinely frightened by this, "How he could be so unhappy that he doesn't want to live any more? How is that even possible, here?"

Poppy sat in the chair next to Minerva and took her hand, "Minerva. These things happen because of a final catalyst. Severus did not just…argue with one of us, and then decide to lock himself in his quarters and take a knife to himself. This has been building up for quite some time, probably since he returned to us and You-Know-Who fell—and it could have been the smallest thing that upset him. It might not even be something we know about." She squeezed Minerva's hand gently, "Whatever it is, we cannot be allowed to feel guilty. That will not help Severus. He needs our support now, we need to find out what has hurt him in the past and help him to find a way through it."

Minerva nodded her acceptance of Poppy's words, happy to have the experienced yet sympathetic medi-witch at Hogwarts. "Do you think…" She swallowed, because it was hard for her to voice her worst fear. "Do you think he will try again?"

Poppy hesitated before replying. "I do not know the answer to that. But we will be able to help." They both turned their heads when Severus moaned and turned over onto his side.

"He reminds me of a child." Minerva murmured. "Do you not think he looks young?"

"He is only twenty four. Compared with us…he is young." Poppy smiled slightly. "You should stay with him. When he wakes, talk to him. He seems to be more willing to speak to you. See if you can convince him to open up to you." She stood. Minerva continued to watch Severus, and her expression was almost haunted.

Poppy reached out and took Minerva's hand once more—but this time, she interlinked the lined fingers with Severus'. "So he knows that you are there." She pulled the curtains back around them and left them together.

Minerva took to running her thumb over Severus' knuckles, surprised at how cold his fingers were. He clenched his fingers, tightening the grip on hers, turning to face her, still fast asleep. She leant forward, brushed his inky hair back from his face. "We'll make you better, Severus. We'll protect you."

* * *

><p>Minerva stirred when the scent of coffee penetrated her nostrils and sped along her nerves to her brain. Her eyes opened slowly and she was instantly aware of stiffness in her back and knees. Where was she? When she realised that she was sitting up, she remembered—the Hospital Wing. She opened her eyes fully and looked at the bed in front of her…it was empty. "Severus…" She turned and Severus was there beside her, a cup in his hand. "Coffee, laced with a little relieving potion. You should not have sat next to me all night."<p>

She took the cup from him, "Does Poppy know you are up? She said you needed to stay in bed…"

"She also said that if I behaved myself yesterday, I could go back to classes today. When did I fall asleep yesterday?" Severus seated himself on the edge of the bed, undoing the bandage that was on his wrist and pulling it away, inspecting what was now a thin cut, already half healed.

"Must have been mid-afternoon? It was not quite dark." Minerva answered, sipping the coffee and enjoying the feeling of warmth as the brown liquid swept straight to her stomach. She yawned slightly and looked at him, "How do you feel?"

"I have not slept so well in…" Severus seemed lost for words. "I am feeling better, thank you, Minerva." He paused, "Why did you stay?"

"I thought that you may like my support, Severus, dear."

"You were holding my hand."

"I was."

There was awkward silence for a moment.

"Severus…forgive me, but I have to ask…why did you do this to yourself?" Minerva said, indicating Severus' wrist. "I have tormented myself, not knowing why you would do such a thing…please, will you tell me?"

Severus shrugged, "I don't know why. And I really don't want to talk about it, Minerva."

"But we need to talk about it, Severus, dear. It's important." Minerva put her cup down and leaned forward, "There must have been a reason?"

"No. I just felt like it." Severus answered abruptly. "How is your coffee?"

"Wonderful. Severus; you and I have developed a strong friendship these past few weeks, I thought that you would have been able to come to me about this?" Minerva tilted her head to one side, "Or why not Albus? He is rather concerned…it is agony for him, knowing that one of his students attempted such a thing."

Severus looked at her for a long moment. His expression was almost pitying. "You do not know what Albus Dumbledore is capable of, Minerva, when angered."

Minerva frowned, "What do you mean, 'what he is capable of'? Albus would never hurt anyone—it is not in his nature."

"Then it is better that you keep believing that. Am I allowed to go back to my office?" Severus stood and wandered toward the edge of the curtain, peering out into the deserted Hospital Wing.

"Are you suggesting to me, Severus, that Albus is responsible for you attempting to kill yourself?"

Severus glanced at her. "Partly." He folded his arms across his chest, "You just need to ask him one thing, Minerva. You need to ask him why I became a Death-Eater. Perhaps the best person to ask about what happened is not me - it is everyone else in my sorry life."

These revelations seemed to have sent Minerva reeling. She struggled to find anything else to say. Severus continued to watch her. "You need not worry about me, Minerva, for you have your students to worry about. I am fine." He pointed to her coffee, "You need to drink that. It will help with your stiffness, that is why I put the potion in. I am going to find Poppy."

"No matter, I am here." Poppy pulled back the curtain, nearly making Severus jump. "I see that you are on your feet, and I suppose desperate to get back to your classes." Poppy looked him over. "I suppose it will do you no harm—as long as you come to me this evening for another check-up."

Severus half smiled, "Thank you, Poppy. I shall speak to you later Minerva." And with that, Severus Snape swept out of the Hospital Wing.

Poppy watched after him. "I really do not think that is a good idea, but I cannot keep him in here against his will. You would not think that he tried to commit suicide—and that is what is worrying me…" She trailed off when she heard a soft, stifled sob from behind her. "Minerva?"

Minerva was sat rigid in the chair, trying very hard to fight the tears that had welled in her eyes. Poppy crossed to her, "What is it?"

Minerva looked at her, suddenly unable to speak.

"Minerva. What did he say?"

"…He said…Albus was partly responsible…" Minerva murmured, as if saying the words was some sort of terrible sin. Poppy stared at her, disbelieving. "How can that be?"

"Why would he say such a thing?" Minerva whispered. "How could Albus…" She shook her head, and the tears she had been holding slipped from her eyes, "Please…don't let Albus be responsible for this…"

Poppy put her arms around Minerva, suddenly frightened too. Had they been looking in the wrong place? She had been so sure that it had been Severus' family—but—what if it had been…the thought was just too horrible. She simply tightened her arms around her friend and hoped that this was all just Severus' slightly confused imagination.

* * *

><p>Severus had stayed out of the way for the past two days—although he had been inundated with visitors, ranging from Minerva (although it was just a passing glance) to Filius to Quirinus…anyone who could be persuaded to drop by his office. The company was beginning to infuriate him. He understood the reasoning behind it, of course, but he wished he could have some time to himself. He had appeared at every meal time, and most of the teachers had been sympathetic and quiet — Minerva had hardly looked at him. He had wished he had never said anything, not because he did not trust her, but because he realised afterward what a position he had placed her in. Albus Dumbledore was one of her closest friends, and he had suggested that Albus was the one who had pushed him into Voldemort's embrace.<p>

Well, that much was true. It was why he could not look Dumbledore in the eye, even now. But the Headmaster had done a good job of tidying and restoring his office to its former glory, and Severus supposed he ought to be slightly grateful for that.

He slammed the door to said office, replaced the wards, and started on his way up to the Great Hall. He had to stop this—these thoughts would undo him. He had been so in control, he had been able to function normally, and then…

He walked into the Entrance Hall, cloak billowing out behind him, glaring at some first year students who happened to cross his path. Everything was fine. He was in complete control of himself and his emotions. The past was the past. It could not harm him now.

"Severus! Here, there is someone I want you to talk to." He turned when he heard the Headmaster's voice. He tried to smile genially at Dumbledore, but seeing the figure stood next to him made everything in his body run cold. For a frightening moment, his heart stopped in his chest.

"Lucius was telling me about his son, Draco." As far as he was aware, Albus Dumbledore had never particularly liked Lucius Malfoy, so why this attempt at friendliness? Severus came slightly closer, his eyes never leaving Lucius' face. Lucius' grey eyes were fixed on his too. "He was considering whether Draco should attend Hogwarts when he is of age." Albus seemed blissfully unaware of the battle of wills that was taking place between the black and silver gazes. Finally Lucius looked away.

_Do you feel it, Malfoy? The cruel stab of guilt? I warned you, did I not, that one day your conscience would haunt you—and you would suffer for what you did to me…_

"Good evening, Lucius." Severus said, pleasantly enough.

Lucius stepped forward, "Severus. It has been a long time." He held out a hand. Severus looked at the black gloved fingers. It took him a moment before he raised his own hand to shake Malfoy's. Malfoy examined his eyes once more. "You look well."

"As do you." Severus replied. He dropped his hand almost immediately. "Forgive my rudeness, but unfortunately I do not have time to stop. I have a lesson to plan. Headmaster. Lucius." He nodded to both of the men in turn, whirled on his heel, and headed back toward the dungeons.

"Severus." Lucius called after him. "It is good to see you."

"Indeed." Severus replied, before disappearing down the staircase.

* * *

><p>He only felt safe once more when he was leaning against his door in his office. He sank his teeth into his lip and counted to ten in his head, feeing every part of his body shake uncontrollably. He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked across the room, trying to pretend he was calm. He picked up the bag from under his bed and started to shove some books and some robes into the leather folds. He would not stay here. This was all beginning to be too much for him.<p>

He shouldered the bag and walked back to the door.

He would not stay here.

* * *

><p>When Professor Snape did not turn up to dinner time, Albus couldn't help the concern that flared in his chest—but he quelled it, wondering if the boy had just gone to sleep and forgotten about dinner. When he didn't answer the door, he became more anxious, but decided that Severus was still in bed, or perhaps brewing.<p>

But when he did not turn up to his first lesson of the next day, Albus couldn't ignore it. He opened the door and expected to see Severus as he had been nearly a week before.

But this was much worse, because the office was empty.

And Severus was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sick**

**Part Two — 1977**

_We move back in time now, just for a few chapters, to establish what has happened in Severus' past. This is when the story starts to get more violent and slightly more distressing — but I promise that we will return to the present day when fixing Severus can begin. Until then, this story is rated for violence and torture and metaphoric imagery…you have been warned. ~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six:<strong>

"You are hungry for blood. I can smell that. You desire revenge against someone who has treated you unfairly — not just unfairly — no, it is more than than that. He has crossed boundaries, has he not? Stepped over the line? I can see that in your eyes, the pure hatred that flows through your veins, and it intrigues me, for you can do much with anger. Dark Magic, of course, spurns from rage. Tell me, who is he? The person who has, and do not deny it, pushed you here? To me?"

A long pause, as if the other, the subservient, was deciding how to answer.

"Albus Dumbledore." He replied, and the very syllables seemed poisonous to his mouth, the way he tried to spit them from his very being.

"How intriguing. Most say a parent, or a peer. But for you to say him…" Lord Voldemort rose from his throne and walked around Severus Snape, surveying him, judging him, appraising him. He examined the thin figure, the slightly too tight robes, the dark hair, feeling his magical essence, that seemed to be fuelled with only the emotions that resulted from disgust. And fear. "What did he do? What could he have possibly done, the oh so saintly Albus Dumbledore?"

Snape did not answer straight away. Either he had not heard Voldemort, was processing his question, was not sure how to answer, or perhaps all three. "He violated certain barriers that stand between a perverted old man and his student."

This truly had caught Voldemort's curiosity, not just the tone of voice, but the very words he had used, "Is this so?" He waited to see if Severus would offer any more on the subject, but he did not seem to be the most talkative of people. Voldemort smiled to himself, coming back to look at Severus' face, "Your talents, you say, lie in Potions and the Dark Arts, is this correct?"

"Yes." Severus replied, his voice much softer now. His expression turned almost distant. "I am attached to those in particular."

"However, I also hear that you are skilled at most wandcraft; transfiguration, charms, defence. You strike me as one who is very intelligent, one who has aspirations for more than just being a servant. Tell me, Severus, why are you really here? Is it to fight for my noble cause? Or is this a thirst for revenge, and nothing more?"

Severus turned his head, and his voice was sharp and acerbic, "And does it matter, if I am here for the cause, or for revenge? Surely, if I am simply willing to do your bidding, that is enough? Because I will do your bidding, as long as you command it."

Voldemort raised his eyebrows, "An intelligent answer. I do wish to know the answer, though. Will you enlighten me, knowing that it does not affect or change my decision in any way?"

Severus' dark eyes met his, "Then I am here for revenge. I will destroy Albus Dumbledore for what he has done to me. I will not stop until he lies in a bloodied mess at my feet, having screamed for and begged for mercy. I will not stop until he is dead, and he has suffered for his crime. Is that what you wished to hear?"

Voldemort nodded, "It is. Unfortunately, my decision will not be one you wish to hear at the present time. You are too young and too volatile for me to Mark you. I am interested and intrigued by your skills, and believe that you would be a worthy addition to my cause. I wish to place you in someone's care until you graduate Hogwarts next month. You know him, I believe? Lucius Malfoy? He will be able to…tutor you in the ways of a Death-Eater, until you are ready."

* * *

><p>"You are hungry for blood. I can smell that." He was sat in his throne once more, eyes fixed on the group in front of him. "He is dangerous. I can imagine he will be…impetuous and spontaneous when you place him under pressure. I am sure he will provide very good sport for you, so I will relinquish him into your…possession…until he graduates from Hogwarts next month. When that happens, he becomes mine, and I shall Mark him when I see fit." He saw the looks of gratitude on his follower's faces, and allowed himself the smallest of smiles. "I believe he will test you beyond anything you imagine him capable of. There is something lurking, there, deep in his soul. Something dangerous. Something dark. A disease, of some kind." He contemplated this for a long moment, before raising his head. "Have your wicked way with him, as you have so begged me for. I understand that you have been starved of blood and other such things — and I do not intend for you to suffer. He is yours to do with as you so wish." That was his dismissal, but he called one of them back. "Lucius. A moment."<p>

Lucius bowed before his Master.

"Do be careful. I do not wish anyone to suspect, at that school. Anything you do to him must remain as invisible as possible — or at least explainable. Although, based on what he has told me — I doubt anyone would notice, or perhaps even care. Also. I want some pieces to play with, so to speak. Do not destroy him completely. Just…see how far you can push him. I will be very interested to hear your results."

"Of course, my Lord."

He let Lucius go, and folded his arms into his cloak. He was very interested indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sick**

_I haven't written this sort of thing for ages, so it has been quite a struggle, but I hope I did it justice. Welcome to 1977 by the way, where our Severus is volatile, angry, and also rather hateful. He likes to destroy things. He's about to meet his match._

_As for those of you wondering what I meant by "perverted old man" I would like to add that it is Severus' interpretation, and sometimes interpretations can be wrong. Do not get me wrong, Albus was certainly out of line, he knows that — but it isn't as bad as some of you think, I feel. I would never _**_ever _**_make Albus do that. To anyone._

_Especially Sev-Sev._

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Severus was stood in the small living room, arms folded, face partly hidden between curtains of dark hair, glaring across at Lucius Malfoy, who was stood opposite. The pampered and well educated Malfoy raised his head, meeting the gaze and not looking away, contemplating the younger man across from him. His Lord was right; Snape was interesting. Different. Raised from a childhood of hatred and fear and anger. Those emotions blazed in his irises, and it was a wonder to Lucius how he had not been incarcerated thus far. That was not his concern at the the moment, of course. He had more important thing to concern himself with. Such as how best to break the boy before him. He wanted blood — it was something all Death-Eaters desired, and the main reason they joined the cause to fight alongside their Lord. Every so often, if they had performed particularly well, the Dark Lord provided those within his Inner Circle with a plaything. A new toy for them to corrupt and abuse. Normally it was a Muggle, which was fair enough, because they could be tortured to within an inch of their life and then simply killed when boredom set in. But to be given a wizard, a boy who was capable of causing damage himself was far more exciting, and Lucius knew that that he and his Death-Eaters were greatly looking forward to having a little light entertainment.

For this first meeting, however, it was just Lucius and Snape. Lucius, of course, knew Snape from afar, having been a few years older than him at Hogwarts. Now the boy was close to leaving, and he had certainly changed. He was still defiant though, he always had been. He had never understood the hierarchy in the Slytherin Common Room, refusing to do Lucius' homework for him, refusing to partake in the activities that took place after dark in the dormitories, far more happy to read and learn and consume information surrounding every topic under the sun. Especially the Dark Arts. The boy knew more than Lucius presumed most of the Inner Circle did when their knowledge was combined, and knowing more than Bellatrix Lestrange was certainly a feat for one so young. Lucius took a step forward. "I would suggest that you show your elders some respect, Snape, when you are in our presence. You would kneel before the Dark Lord, would you not? Until you are Marked, you would do well to treat us with the same respect as you would he."

Snape either had not heard Lucius or was hearing him and simply ignoring his instructions. He continued to stare at Lucius, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Kneel." Lucius commanded, but still Snape would not obey him. He smirked, and Lucius suddenly understood the challenge. _Make me_.

Lucius drew his wand, but before he could cast anything, Snape had done the same and the ground suddenly seemed to be pulled from under Lucius' feet, and the older man fell to the ground on his rear end, a furious flush colouring his cheeks. "I do not have to kneel to you." Snape answered, pocketing his wand.

Lucius glared across at him, "You are incredibly foolish, Snape."

"I bow only to one, Malfoy, and that is the Dark Lord. You are not on the same level as he, and you never shall be. Do not try to kid yourself." Snape's words were venomous. "Was there anything else, Malfoy?"

Lucius got back to his feet and watched Snape. "No. Nothing at all."

* * *

><p>Severus was walking along one of the many corridors in Riddle Mansion, determined to find his way out and back to Hogwarts before he was caught outside of curfew. It was not too hard to slip out of the school — he knew about the secret passageways and he was hardly noticed, whether he was there or not. Responding to the burn on his arm was not difficult. But he was not going to be belittled by Malfoy, someone he knew far more than and was insignificant in Severus' plans to destroy Albus Dumbledore. He would not be forced to bow to anyone, beside the Dark Lord who Severus did truly respect.<p>

He heard the footsteps and turned a second too late. His wand was blasted from his hand and he hit the ground in a crumpled heap before he had time to even realise what was happening. Reeling from the impact, he was practically powerless as two strong arms wrenched him up from the ground and dragged him to one side, out of the corridor and into an adjoining room. He tried to struggle against the two unyielding towers of muscles and wished, once again, that he was not so thin and small. He was pulled up to his knees and came face to face with a wand. Malfoy's wand, to be precise. Malfoy was stood in front of him, "That's better." He pressed his wand to Severus' forehead, forcing his head back, "However. I do believe you need to earn a little respect, Snape. You have been released into my care. The better you behave, the less you will suffer. I do not think you quite understand the situation. You are my property. I shall treat you however I see fit."

"I am nothing of yours." Severus replied, and for good measure, he spat at Malfoy. Malfoy recoiled and nodded at whoever had Severus in a tight grip. His head was wrenched backward by his hair and exposed his throat. Malfoy seemed to snicker, "Put a blindfold on him."

Severus attempted to struggle when the cloth was pulled across his eyes, but once again, they met with his captors like water on rock. Suddenly plunged into terrible darkness, he felt his heartbeat increase and fear build in his chest, despite how much he wanted to seem brave and unaffected.

"Let's see how really tough you are, Snape." Malfoy hissed. "Crucio."

The agony swept through Severus' veins and he winced and flinched despite himself, not wanting to seem like a dying spider but finding no other way to deal with the pain that was far too much for anyone to deal with. Somewhere from the depths of the torture-filled void he was falling down into, he felt someone wrestling with the clasp on the front of his robe and lashed out with his feet, colliding with something and knowing he had caused damage. The curse was broken and he tried to open his eyes but remembered that the blindfold was there and he still could not see. He could hear slightly heavier breathing from somewhere above him, and some sort of muttered swearword that sounded wrong coming from the educated Malfoy's mouth. "Bastard child."

"Lucius — you're bleeding."

"I can see that, Avery! Put him down." Severus was dropped onto the ground, the blindfold was ripped away, and he was looking up into Malfoy's face. Blood was dribbling from Malfoy's nose and lower lip, and Severus saw pure hate in those platinum eyes. "I will take my revenge for that, Snape." He pulled Severus' head closer to his, "I will destroy you." He threw Severus back down to the ground and whirled, storming away, followed by Avery and whoever the other Death-Eater was, feeling particularly pleased with himself.

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy dabbed the handkerchief to his face and recoiled at the sight of the red liquid on the white material. "I will have him for that. I will make him weep." He turned to Avery and Nott. "Find me a Boggart. I will destroy him."<p>

He waited until they had gone before examining his reflection in the window. The moment he had tried to undo Snape's robe, the boy had become slightly more violent and had lashed out in a very uncontrolled way, which suggested Lucius had touched a nerve.

And what better way to find out what the nerve was…besides conjuring his greatest and darkest fear?


	8. Chapter 8

**Sick**

_Author's Note is at the end. ~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight:<strong>

The boy had brought scorn upon the whole of the Snape family, divided them, torn them apart, and was the work of Satan himself. His mother, a _witch_, clearly consorted with Satan and was one of Lucifer's angels, and she should have never been allowed any contact with his younger brother — whom was a good man at the heart, and was certainly not anything unholy. But he had been charmed and she had clearly poisoned his drink that night, corrupting him and leading to the conception and creation of the abomination that stood before him — his nephew, although he would never call him that, a boy who was made before marriage and carried the Devil's mark, could do unnatural things, and was a _freak_, just like his mother.

Jairus Snape had never understood his younger brother's fascination with Eileen Prince, and had tried to bring him back toward the Light when she had started to tempt him, but Tobias was too young, too naive, not yet wise to the ways of women and sirens, and he had fallen for her. When she announced that she was pregnant with his child, he had sworn that he would find some way to defeat her and her evil ways.

Of course, he would never hit a pregnant or unarmed woman, much less a child. There had always been a chance that the child did not inherit his mother's powers, and remained true and in the eyes of the Lord, pure. Untainted.

But he did not. From the age of ten, he started to exhibit the same _talents _as his mother — and it was then that Jairus had finally understood his mission. His mission was to drive the freakishness from that boy — to make sure that the Snape family remained pure.

He hated his nephew more than anything else in the world. He could not stand the child, with his dark hair and dark eyes and most of his mother's features — apart from the Snape nose, which had been something to be proud of before he had arrived. Even the name given to the child sounded to Jairus like it was the work of the Devil — and he would never use it.

He had other titles for this Satan's spawn, however.

Lucifer lay within his very blood, and it was through that blood that the Devil could be purged.

He had to punish the boy, because the boy needed punishing, through that punishment would come redemption and perhaps renouncement and then he would finally be a worthy heir to the Snape line.

* * *

><p>Severus backed away from his uncle, not sure how the Dark Lord had managed to find him, not wanting to contemplate what might happen next — he swallowed and knew that he was demonstrating fear — but his uncle was cruel and merciless in his treatment of Severus, whom he hated and disliked and wanted to see dead. Whenever he hit Severus, he said something about saving the boy's soul — and Severus had never been able to fight back. Jairus Snape was tall and bulky and strong, much so than his nephew — and he could always break Severus.<p>

* * *

><p>Most of the time, Jairus waited until the witch was out before instilling his regime upon the boy. She went out often — and Tobias had a job — so they often asked him to look after the boy. He had been brought here once again so he could make sure the other learnt his lesson — to consort with the Devil was a sin that was punishable.<p>

* * *

><p>"Come here, freak." Snape said harshly, a command more than a request.<p>

Severus hesitated, wondering if he could draw his wand, was this some sort of test perhaps, to see if he could murder his uncle, was that what the Dark Lord wanted? He shook his head, feeling no older than twelve years once again, and wishing he could find some sort of internal strength. His uncle had always waited until he had Severus alone before doing anything to him — made sure no one could hear Severus cry out when the pain became too much — and when his parents had arrived home, he had always managed to brush it off. His father said he deserved it, and his mother was too weak and depressed to say anything — not even to defend her own son. So Severus had for much of his childhood simply accepted the beatings and had tried not to cry too much, because strong people did not cry.

But he did not want to approach his uncle, he knew what would happen if he did —

* * *

><p>The boy was outrightly disobeying him, and it enraged Jairus. He was stood, being defiant, the way Eileen Prince had been when Jairus had threatened her should she marry his younger brother. He would not stand for such disobedience and defiance, not by a child — he marched across the room, and grabbed Severus by his collar.<p>

* * *

><p>Before Severus even had time to react and draw his wand, his uncle had grabbed his collar and slammed him back against the wall, sending shivers through his skeleton. Severus winced as his uncle gripped his chin tight between his fingers and raised Severus' face to his, the nails digging into his skin, enough to puncture. He hated his uncle's eyes for they were devoid of any emotions, except hate, and it scared Severus beyond anything he could imagine. "Uncle…" He murmured, disappointed at how weak his voice sounded.<p>

"You're a freak, boy." Snape replied, cutting across Severus, "Get on the floor."

Severus tried to shake his head, "No…"

His uncle threw him onto the floor at the sound of his reluctance, "Do not question me."

Severus, frightened, went for his wand - but Snape was quicker, kneeling next to Severus and trapping his hand against his side, "Do not even try, I know your mother and her tricks, you will not find me such easy prey —"

"My mother was not like that —" This was the one thing that continually angered Severus, because his uncle believed his mother was some sort of temptress when she had been a good person, inherently so —

Jairus slapped Severus across the face, splitting is lip because of the sheer force, "Your mother is the spawn of the Devil, boy, and I do not even wish to contemplate what that makes you — you are him trying to possess you —"

Blood dribbling from his mouth, Severus tried to squirm away but his uncle had managed to grab Severus' wand and pulled it away from him. He threw it into a corner as if touching it burned him, before focusing his attention back on Severus. "I think perhaps you need a small reminder of what you are — remember, I am doing this for your own good —"

Severus flinched away, "No…if my mother…"

"Oh yes, your mother. If she can hear you from Hell, I suppose she will come to help you — is that it? Such a shame she stepped out in front of that car — " Jairus spat and Severus seemed about to say something in response but thought better of it. Jairus stepped away, "On your knees and beg for redemption, freak."

Severus shook his head, "No."

"Defiance?" Jairus grabbed Severus by his hair and pulled him up to his knees, "Hands behind your head."

Severus hated more than anything this humiliation technique — but he did put his hands behind his head as commanded.

"I think perhaps some of my lessons have started to wear off — perhaps the poker might reinforce the message."

Severus turned, lowering his hands, "No…no…"

Jairus whirled, "Hands _behind _your head!"

Severus contemplated running, but he would not get far — the poker — he hated that — it was hot and — "Please, I've learnt, I cannot change what I am, you do not need to reinforce the message, Uncle, I know what I am…"

"Then say it, boy." Jairus answered. "Tell me."

But Severus would not admit the word because he knew what it was — a betrayal of his mother —

"Very well. I think perhaps you have lied to me."

* * *

><p>Jairus picked up the poker from the fireplace and inspected the end. Although the Devil inhabited Hell, it could not bear it when heat was applied to a mortal skin, for the pain was too great. He made sure his hand was well away from the screaming hot metal and faced the boy, who had his back to him, muscles tensed. This was for his good — exorcise the Devil — and then he could have a fresh new start, he could be pure once more, and perhaps he would even be accepted into a Kingdom somewhere. "Shirt off, boy."<p>

The boy seemed paralysed by his own fear, and that was good, because that meant Jairus was rightfully putting the fear of God into the boy — "Quickly."

But still no response from his nephew — so Jairus walked across and raised the poker high, "Do not flinch, that is the Devil's command."

The boy had tightened his muscles, eyes closed, like a coil ready to spring — and then he brought the weapon down.

* * *

><p>Severus cried out as the red hot metal made contact with the skin that was visible around his neck. He had refused to take his shirt off because he did not want to be burned - but the force that his uncle brought the poker down caused something in his neck to break and the pain exploded. He tried to get out of the way, turning his face toward his uncle — at exactly the wrong moment. The metal collided with his face and he recoiled, his skin suddenly feeling alight, burying his head in his hands with a scream that quickly became a sob as the pain intensified.<p>

He was vaguely aware of someone shouting "Riddukulus" but the pain continued and he sobbed into his hands. Why was someone shouting the counter curse to a Boggart, because that was what that curse did…why wasn't his uncle still hurting him…he raised his head and saw a flash of blonde hair. "…What…"

Lucius stepped into his vision and looked down at him, "How intriguing."

Severus, well aware there was blood on his face and he was badly burnt, stared at him, "…It…It was a Boggart?" He whispered, "…Why…"

"How better to teach you a lesson, Snape, than to watch you face your greatest fear? It was highly entertaining." Lucius tutted, "You believed in it — you ought to clean yourself up — otherwise someone at Hogwarts may suspect something."

Before Severus could stand, Lucius reached out and pressed a hand to his shoulder, keeping him still, "Next time…you will kneel when asked." He withdrew his hand and turned away. Severus got shakily to his feet and disappeared out into the corridor, leaving Lucius alone.

Not quite alone.

"How very interesting, Lucius. An interesting tactic — very underhand too, I might add. I am very impressed." Lord Voldemort murmured from the shadows, and Lucius bowed to him, accepting the compliment. "Did he perform to your liking, master?"

Voldemort seemed to consider, "It was certainly an enlightening experience, and gives me much to work with. However. I suspect you are not quite finished yet, are you?"

"If my Lord so allows, I wish to test him in a slightly more…pressurised situation…and of course, he should Duel us — if my Lord would so consent."

Voldemort nodded, "I will have one sent to you from Azkaban. Remember — do not kill him — I want him alive."

"I am at my Lord's service."

* * *

><p>Severus hid in the bathroom at Hogwarts, the cubicle door locked and his face still buried in his hands. He had picked up his wand and managed to repair most of the damage so it was at least invisible — but he could not stop the way his heart pounded — that had been a vision? A Boggart — and yet — he had been so sure it was real, and now Malfoy knew what his uncle had done to him — he had never felt such self loathing, he had been so very pathetic, and he had been watched!<p>

He pulled the toilet lid up and retched the contents of his stomach into the bowl, trying to ignore the tears that streaked his cheeks as he coughed and spluttered.

His uncle was right — he was tainted.

Diseased.

Sick.

* * *

><p><em>Another difficult chapter - I am working from my perception that Boggarts can cause physical harm because they assume the form of whatever the person fears most - in this case, Severus fears his uncle and most importantly the pain his uncle causes - thus it hurts him in real life too, just like the Dementors can cause Harry to collapse.<em>

_I hope that my OC in Jairus Snape was a little bit different to usual - I have approached this topic before but never in this sort of way - he will return later in the story._

_Yours ~ SS19_


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